


Completely Different Things

by Faillen



Series: Make Tomorrow's World Better (Through Any Means Necessary) [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angie's Diner, Avengers Meetings, Break Up, Corporate Schemes, Developing Relationship, Gang/Mafia AU, He'll get through it, Hydra (Marvel), Kidnapping, M/M, Mild torture, Over-protectiveness, Paranoia, Tony is Confused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-20 07:18:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8241055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faillen/pseuds/Faillen
Summary: Tony Stark was a genius. It was something he prided himself on. But being a genius didn’t mean that he always understood the effects of something beyond the tangible.Exhibit A:It was one thing to know that your boyfriend killed people.It was another thing to see your boyfriend kill people.It was a completely different, and far more alarming thing to know that your boyfriend would kill people for you.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty, the entirety of part three, edited and without lopsided chapter word counts
> 
> This installment did get the "Joy Stamp of Approval" and "10/10 Destruction" from my friends Joy and Amy, respectively, who are both angst-lovers, so you've been warned :P

Tony Stark was a genius. It was something he prided himself on. But being a genius didn’t mean that he always understood the effects of something beyond the tangible.

Exhibit A: 

  1. It was one thing to _know_ that your boyfriend killed people.
  2. It was another thing to _see_ your boyfriend kill people.
  3. It was a completely different, and far more alarming thing to know that your boyfriend would kill people _for you._



It wasn’t that he had qualms about death and killing. Being the target of numerous assassination and kidnapping attempts tended to make sure that a guy got at least a bit desensitized to the violence in the world.

But being the one caused targets to be painted on people’s backs? Now that was something Tony wasn’t quite sure what to make of. Even if said people had been a bunch of kidnapping assholes.

Adding in the fact that it was his normally sweet-as-apple-pie (aka ruthless gang leader of the Avengers) boyfriend that had done all the murdering?

…Well, Tony wasn’t really sure if genius was all he needed to parse through the situation.

But it wasn’t like he was going to admit that, of course. He had a reputation to uphold and a boyfriend to keep by his side, so damn if he wasn’t going to bulldoze his way through this in usual Tony Stark fashion.

* * *

It started like this.

He’d woken up to Bucky banging on the door to Steve’s room at around 6am, and had whined while Steve slipped out of bed in order to get ready for his morning run. Ten minutes later, Tony was still whining, plastered to Steve’s back while the blond puttered around the kitchen to make coffee.

After his second cup of coffee, Tony had felt slightly more alive. Steve slipped out with Bucky, pressing a kiss to Tony’s forehead before he left. Tony had then proceeded to flop around in the empty apartment for another half n’ hour before he got a calendar notification for a meeting at 8. Five minutes after that, Steve sent him a message saying that they might not be back till late, because Nat wanted them to look over some intel. 

Not finding the prospect of sitting alone in the apartment for a few hours very exciting, Tony decided that showing up to the meeting unexpectedly and raising Obadiah’s blood pressure would be time far better spent. He called Happy for a ride, went back to the tower, and got dressed.

The kidnappers didn’t know all of that. What they did know, however, was that Tony Stark had a 8 o’clock meeting, and a bad Starbucks habit. So when Tony made his way down the street for his coffee fix, they were waiting in the alleyway next to it, chloroform rags, sketchy van, and ratty blindfold in their hands— all that any amateur kidnapper needed.

Now, Tony was normally a very alert person—despite his morning-sluggishness—for it was kind of necessary when your business partner was out to kill you. But as Tony had approached the alleyway where the kidnappers were hiding, his eye caught a man staring at him, his lips curled into a smirk. He was unfamiliar, and the black hair and green eyes meant that he wasn’t a forgettable face either, yet he looked at Tony with something akin to familiarity beyond that of simply knowing  _ of _ Tony Stark, his eyes dancing as if he knew all of Tony’s secrets.

Unfortunately, that momentary distraction was enough that the kidnappers caught him off guard, dragging him into the alley and slapping a cloth drenched in chloroform over his nose. They dragged his unconcious body into the van before speeding off to an undisclosed location. 

For all that their methods were amateur, however, their orders were definitely not something along the lines of simple ransom money. From what Tony could glean as he now lay motionless on the ground—in an effort to pretend that the drugs hadn’t worn off yet—they were HYDRA, on orders to rough Tony up a bit.

Apparently, Stane liked to have phases to his assassination schemes. Who knew. 

But the orders to “mess him up and scare him” were kind of worrying. “Mess him up” could go anywhere from a few punches to full on waterboarding. Tony was really, really hoping it didn’t get to waterboarding.

Luckily (or unluckily) the punch to the stomach that one of the HYDRA minions decided to “wake him up” with seemed to mean that their methods of torture were closer to the former. Tony couldn’t help the groan that escapes him at the unexpected hit, and the kidnappers jeered, before one of them kicked him in the back. 

Tony gritted his teeth and curled up into fetal position, but the kidnappers just hauled him up and punched him in the gut again. Another kicked him in the back of the knees, causing him to drop to the ground painfully hard. Tony gasped out, and was rewarded by a kick to the face, his head whipping to the side with the force of it. 

“Kicking a man while he’s down? Really?” He couldn’t help but snark, his tongue swiping over his lip. His lip was throbbing, and he was pretty sure it was split, if he went by the sensation of something dripping down his chin and the taste of copper. 

The thing was, Tony could usually defend himself pretty well, even blindfolded with his arms tied behind his back. But whatever they had drugged him with besides the chloroform was making his head woozy, and his sense of orientation was shot. 

“You know,” Tony muttered, “if I’d known it was going to be this kind of party, I would’ve told you my safeword.”

His arms were wrenched above his head in response to his comment, and his shoulders screamed in protest. One of the minions crouched down in front of him, and Tony could almost  _ see  _ the sneer on the asshole’s face as he spat.

“You know, Mr.  _ Stark _ ,” the amount of utter disdain infused into the name was almost amusing. Almost. “I’d like to see if your beloved Captain actually comes for you.”

Tony froze, and his heart dropped in his stomach.

Tony Stark was a billionaire that was trying to shut down his weapons division. The Captain was a gang leader that probably had quite a few homocide charges against him. There was no reason for there to be a connection between them, unless someone realized that the one person in the way of Tony’s quest to shut down the arms decision was Obadiah Stane, who was making backdoor deals with the one person in the way of the Captain’s quest to rid the city of HYDRA and Johann Schmidt, aka Red Skull. 

There was only two ways that someone could come to that conclusion. 1) HYDRA knew Steve was the Captain, or 2) Stane was aware of Tony’s communication with the Avengers.

Tony hoped and prayed that it was the second option, and not the first.

He regrouped quickly, and let out a harsh chuckle instead of reacting to that alarming bit of information. The man in front of him grabbed his hair, seething, “Funny, Stark?”

Huffing out a breath, a smirk curved across his face as he replied, “Figures you can’t expect anything better from HYDRA than some cheesy lines. What was that from? Megamind?”

With an enraged growl, the man punched Tony, hard, and Tony’s last thought before he blacked out was that HYDRA could benefit from setting up a few anger management courses.

* * *

He was jolted awake by the sound of gunshots. The blindfold was still covering his eyes, but the sounds of discharging guns and slumped bodies hitting the ground was unmistakeable.

Tony tested his wrists and, much to his annoyance, found that they were still tied together. With a bit of maneuvering, however, he was able to get himself into a sitting position.

“Hey,” he yelled his voice barely echoing over the sound of gunfire, “if any of you assholes are on my side, can someone get over here and untie me?” 

A bullet impacted the ground next to him, and he startled, “Fuck! Really? Someone untie me and give me a gun, goddammit. If I damsel any longer I’m going to become Swiss cheese.”

A few moments later, he heard a light chuckle behind him was the ropes were cut through. As soon as they fell away, Tony ripped off his blindfold and found himself looking at a very amused Bucky Barnes.

“Well?” Tony demanded, “Are you going to give me a gun or what?”

Bucky simply jerked his chin to behind Tony, his mouth curving up into a smirk. Tony whipped his head around, and the scene that greeted him was…

Tony wasn’t quite sure what it was, to be honest. It was somewhere between really fucking hot and downright terrifying.

Steve dropped the man he’d pinned up against the wall, his lips pursed as he fired two more shots into him, the body convulsing wildly near his feet. He holstered his gun before turning around to where Natasha had pinned and then stabbed another one of the men, his eyes hard as he surveyed the damage.

Tony had never seen Steve kill, and had only seen brief glimpses of him in “Captain-mode.” It was hard to reconcile with how he usually thought of his boyfriend, and the realization that Steve was, by all counts, a cold-blooded killer made something uncomfortable settle in his gut. He ignored it, however, in favor of watching as Steve finished his inspection and lightly kicked at one of the bodies before looking up.

“Widow,” he commanded, “get the bodies into one place, Winter, help her. We’re going to have to burn them.” Bucky moved away from behind Tony to join Natasha, clapping Steve on the shoulder as he went, before leaning in and whispering something in his ear.

Steve turned towards Tony, his eyes becoming far softer as he took in the genius sitting on the ground. Of course, that look became more and more concerned as he got closer to Tony, cataloguing all his injuries. Steve crouched down in front of him, and abortedly reached a hand out, before pulling back—there was blood on his gloves, Tony noticed, before shoving the thought into the back of his head.

He met Steve’s eyes with an amused grin, “Couldn’t even give me a chance to redeem myself and kick ass, could you?”

Steve shook his head and huffed out a breath with a small smile, “You okay?”

Tony shrugged, holding in a wince as the motion pulling on his sore shoulders, “A bit banged up, nothing too bad,  _ Mio Capitano. _ ”

Steve nodded, before pressing a finger up to his earpiece, “Falcon, yeah, no need for backup, but Iron Man needs medical attention. Is Banner available?” He paused, listening to what Sam had to say, and Tony glared at him. He was fine, goddammit, but Steve just ignored him.

“Yeah, that would be great, I have to help Widow and Winter with clean up, and the more of us doing that, the faster we can clear the scene. Was Deputy able to intercept any calls to the precinct?”

Another pause, “Good, see you in three minutes?”

Steve turned back to Tony, “Falcon is going to pick you up and take you to Banner’s. I’m going to help with cleanup. Deputy Chief Coulson was able to intercept the first call, but he’s going to have to let any others through, so we only have a few minutes.”

“Steve, I told you that I was fine.” Steve gave Tony a pointed look before poking him in the ribs. Tony couldn’t help the wince, before glaring even harder. Steve’s jaw tightened for a moment at the wince, but it relaxed quickly, becoming a no-nonsense look instead.

“I’m 99% sure you have bruised, if not cracked ribs, and someone’s gotta look at your lip.” His voice was firm, and bore no space for argument, but of course, Tony pushed.

Swiping his tongue over his bottom lip, “I’m pretty sure  _ you _ could look at my lip,” he purred obnoxiously. Steve just rolled his eyes before pressing a kiss to the corner of Tony’s mouth and standing up. He held out his arm.

“C’mon, up you go,” He replied instead, and Tony huffed before carefully grabbing his wrist, ignoring the complaints of his shoulder. His ribs, admittedly, did twinge a bit, but he wasn’t going to tell that to Steve.

Steve hauled him up easily, and Tony stumbled into a him a bit as he tried to get his bearings, his head not happy with the sudden elevation change. He grabbed at Steve’s bicep, while the blond’s hands hoovered around his waist, reluctant to touch. Tony took a step back with a nonchalant smile.

“Whoops,” Tony grinned wolfishly, giving Steve’s arm a playful squeeze. Steve just rolled his shoulders, dislodging Tony’s hand in the process. Despite the attempt to stretch himself out a bit, the tension was still obvious in every bit of Steve’s frame.

When Sam came to pick Tony up two minutes later, Steve followed Tony to the entrance of the warehouse, only responding with a half-hearted smile at Tony’s whining. His back was ramrod straight, Tony realized, as he watched Steve give a bit more information to Sam. He pressed a kiss to Steve’s mouth before he climbed onto the motorcycle behind Sam, and pulled away to find Steve looking at him intently, his eyes inscrutable.

When Tony glanced back as he and Sam sped away, Steve’s figure was still in the entrance of the warehouse, the tightness of his shoulders obvious as the afternoon light cut across his stern expression.

* * *

The ride to Bruce’s building was short, and Tony’s hair whipped around his face as they zipped through the streets. The twinge in his ribs had become more pronounced, and his shoulders weren’t happy with the way he had to hold onto Sam.

Tony may or may not have been extremely relieved when they finally parked.

They both dismounted, and Tony watched, hands in his pockets, as Sam nudged the kickstand and pocketed his keys. Tony’s hopes that Sam wouldn’t say anything were dashed as they began to walk through the apartment’s garage.

“He was terrified,” Sam said quietly as he opened the inter-garage door to Bruce’s apartment building. Tony didn’t say anything for once, silently following Sam up the staircase.

“He got back to his apartment around 10, and when he saw you weren’t there he called Ms. Potts, thinking you were in a meeting, and she told him that Happy driven you over in the morning, but that she hadn’t seen you since you’d left the building for Starbucks.”

Tony gave a soft hum in acknowledgement, internally cursing the lack of working elevators in the building while his ribs complained.

“He waited another hour, figuring you’d just gotten distracted or something, and around 11:30, he got an anonymous call saying that you’d been taken, but that the person didn’t know where.”

They stopped in front of the door to Bruce’s apartment, and Sam faced him, his expression somber, “All bets were off after that. I haven’t seen him that angry since Bucky’s accident.”

Sam knocked on the door, and looked down at the ground. He took a deep breath.

“He would’ve torn the entire fucking city apart for you.”

Tony’s breath caught, the implication not lost on him as Sam met his eyes with an almost impassive look. Yet, there was a bit of fear too, as if Sam knew just how far Steve would be willing to go, and found it as terrifying as Tony did.

Before Tony could say anything, Bruce opened the door, and Tony quickly pasted a smile onto his face, unwilling to reveal how shaken he was.

“Brucie-bear,” he exclaimed, holding his arms out. Bruce just rolled his eyes, unimpressed.

“He’s a bit banged up,” Sam said from over Tony’s shoulder, “Steve told me to tell you not to take any of his BS,” Tony made an affronted noise, “and that Tony should probably inform Officer Rhodes that he was okay, since he was the only other person outside of us that knew about the situation.”

“Tony is right here.” Tony muttered, “And I can call Rhodey without your supervision, thanks.”

Bruce shrugged as he ushered Tony in, “I don’t make the orders, I just follow them.” He turned to Sam. “Are you staying?”

Sam shook his head, “Nah, Steve’s going to want me at HQ.” Bruce nodded in understanding, and Sam continued, “Tony, you going to have Happy take you back to the Tower?”

“Probably.” Tony replied, non-committally.

“Good. I’ll see you both later.” Sam closed the door behind him, and Tony looked over at Bruce, who gave him a tired smile.

“Alright, shirt off, let’s see your ribs.” 

“At least buy me dinner,” Tony replied flirtatiously.

“You’re rich enough to buy your own dinner,” Bruce shot back, and Tony pouted, before pulling his shirt off.

“Have your way with me, doc.”

Bruce just gave an exasperated sigh and got to work.

* * *

Three weeks was quite a long time, Tony mused to himself as he swiped a fry through the paper cup filled with ketchup and looked up at Steve. Not that long, sure, but surely it was long enough.

See. Steve was...jumpy. And jumpy wasn’t quite the right word for it either, Tony thought as he watched his boyfriend’s eyes scan the exits to the restaurants yet again. Perhaps hoovering was a better word. 

Since Tony had gotten kidnapped, something had shifted. Steve had started acting like someone was going to come whisk Tony away at any point in time, his shoulders constantly tense, and his eyes darting. Tony understood that there was some level of justified fear, but it was starting to get a bit ridiculous.

“So, I’m coming to the meeting tonight,” Steve startled before looking at Tony with an almost grim smile. 

“Yeah, Natasha told me that you were talking to her. You want to stay at mine until we have go to HQ?” 

Tony nodded, drumming his fingers against the table, “Sounds good to me.”

The waitress came over with the check before Tony could say anything else, and they paid and left quickly. Steve almost immediately had a hand on Tony’s back, and Tony glanced up at him, unable to remember if Steve had done that as often as he did now after the kidnapping.

Happy was waiting for them in the car, and they both slid into the backseat—Tony replying cheerfully to Happy’s greeting.

He and Steve let a silence settle between them, and Tony used to marvel over that: the fact that he never felt like he had to fill silences with Steve. But now it was almost stifling, and Tony couldn’t help but wonder how many things they’d left unsaid in those silences that had once awed him.

They hadn’t had a normal start to their relationship, that much was true. It had been built on lies and misunderstandings that only got cleared up after they were forced to talk. If Steve hadn’t shoved that gun in the back of his waistband that day, Tony doubted that they would’ve told each other the truth by now—Steve would still think Tony was a lowly mechanic, and Tony would still think that Steve was just a starving art major.

Tony was starting to realize just how much they might have overlooked by never having a discussion between telling each other the truth and falling right back into a relationship.

The man Tony had first felt for was a sweet golden boy, whose fingers were always smudged with charcoal, and whose lips always curved into a playful smirk after a joke. And the side of Steve that was ruthless, with bloodstained hands and wicked smirks after dangerous threats? That was a side that Tony often didn’t include in how he thought of his boyfriend.

Right after the kidnapping, after hearing what Sam had to say and witnessing the merciless efficiency with which Steve had disposed of the HYDRA henchmen, Tony had been sure that he’d be able to figure it out, that he’d be able to bulldoze through and make sure that they came out the other side intact.

And now…

The car stopped in front of Steve’s apartment building, and Steve lightly touched Tony’s knee, causing him to shake out of his thoughts. Tony smiled at him and followed him out of the car, giving Happy a jaunty salute as he slid out.

Steve had moved ahead of him and was putting in the code to enter the building. Tony had almost reached him when Happy gave an exclamation from behind him, he half turned and Happy made an aborted move for Tony’s wrist, not realizing that Tony had already stopped. They bumped into each other a bit, and Tony was halfway to a small chuckle as Happy grabbed his shoulder to stabilize himself.

But before Tony could even vocalize any kind of snarky remark, Happy was shoved away from him, and Tony was pushed aside. Disoriented by the sudden change, it took Tony a moment to realize what had happened, and his blood ran cold when he did.

“Steve!” He shouted, realizing that the blond had grabbed Happy by the shoulder and throat, “Let him go, goddammit.” 

He hit Steve’s arm as hard as he could, and Steve whipped around to looked at Tony’s panicked face. He jolted, before releasing Happy and stumbling back, his face twisting into confusion, and slowly, shame and horror.

Tony turned towards Happy, his heart beating in overdrive from the adrenaline, “Shit, Happy, are you okay?”

The man waved his hand in response as he bent over and took a few breaths. Tony rushed over, helping the man straighten up with a hand on his shoulder, his lips pursing as Happy rubbed his throat with a wry smile and a bit of a cough.

“I’m fine, boss.” Happy said after a moment, but his eyes were wide, and there was still panic in them. He glanced over Tony’s shoulder at Steve, before darting his eyes back to Tony.

“You’ve got a fighter, right there,” He joked a bit darkly, but Tony’s expression only grew more sour. Happy simply pushed Tony’s phone into his hand, “Just wanted to make sure you got this.” 

Tony looked down at his phone, and Happy clapped his shoulder before leaning closer, “If it weren’t for his expression right now, I’d—” He cut himself off and paused, before looking at Tony meaningfully, “You better tell us if there’s  _ ever _ anything fishy.”

It took Tony a moment before he realized what Happy was trying to say, and his eyebrows shot up, “No, no, he doesn’t—he’s working through some things.”

Happy nodded slowly, and patted Tony’s shoulder after a moment, “Alright then, boss, I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t go forgetting your phone anywhere else.” 

Tony let out a dry chuckle, “I’ll try my best.” He watched as Happy jogged back to the car, waiting until he’d started driving before turning to Steve.

The blond looked back at him, his blue eyes tired and ashamed. He looked like he was curling in on himself, and Tony could almost see the sickly young boy that Bucky told him Steve once was. 

“C’mon,” Tony said, walking to Steve and guiding him towards the apartment building by the arm, “We should probably talk.”

* * *

Tony grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water while Steve watched hims from the kitchen table. He was sitting up straight, the slump from before disappearing as Steve’s expression became careful. Tony sat down across from him and slid the glass across the table, watching as Steve downed it, his throat bobbing.

Steve clinked the glass back down, and there was a heavy silence as Tony looked somewhere over Steve’s shoulder, his brows furrowed. 

Steve shifted, “Tony, I’m,” he swallowed, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not me you really have to apologize to,” Tony replied letting out a bitter laugh. Steve opened his mouth to reply, but Tony held up a hand, gathering his thoughts.

“I think it might—” Tony took a breath and backtracked, “You’ve been really high-strung.” 

Steve jaw tightened, “I’ve been...worried. Since the kidnapping.” 

Tony just nodded absently, picking at the sleeve of his button-up, “We should probably take a break.” His face was carefully blank as he looked up at Steve.

A whoosh of air was punched out of Steve’s lungs as he stared at Tony, “I—why? Is this because of what just happened? Because that was just reflex, Tony—” He cut his panicked rambling off when Tony raised a palm, his lips pursed.

Tony took a moment to gather his thoughts and then pushed a hand through his hair with a sigh.

“Ever since the kidnapping you’ve been really freaked out. And it’s seriously affecting our relationship—no, wait, listen to me and then you can talk,” Tony bit out as Steve once again attempted to speak, “I realized that we never actually talked about the other sides of our lives after we found out the truth about each other, we just went on with everything and I’m starting to think that was a mistake.” 

Tony looked away and exhaled, “Steve, realizing that you would  _ kill  _ for me—it was kind of terrifying, just like I’m sure it was terrifying for you to realize that I could get kidnapped and you’d have no way of helping me.” Steve let out a wounded noise, but Tony continued, the words tumbling out of his mouth.

“We can’t get our heads on straight when we’re near each other, we’ve been blind to all the things that we glossed over, and I need—” Tony closed his eyes, “I need to come to terms with the fact that my boyfriend is someone who has murdered, and will murder in order to protect me. I’m not trying to take a moral high ground about this; I’ve seen death, and I’ve caused it in my life—but realizing that I could paint the target on people’s backs and that you would shoot is overwhelming.” He could hear Steve let out a carefully restrained exhale of breath, and he squeezed his eyes even tighter, tilting his head towards the table.

“And things like today? That’s probably going to keep happening until you come to terms with the fact that not everything is a threat to me, and that I can protect myself—which I can, I’ve taken down thugs when you weren’t there and you know that.”

“I just,” Tony opened his eyes, his stomach sinking as he watched Steve’s wide blue eyes harden, “I don’t think we should do this right now, with all of that hanging over us, and especially when we don’t know how much Obadiah knows about our relationship.”

Steve pursed his lips, turning his head to the side. Tony could see his jaw working, and Tony held his breath, his fingers digging into his pants. After a moment Steve turned towards him, his eyes searching Tony’s face, before nodding decisively.

“Okay,” He pushed the chair back from the table and got up while Tony watched him. He took a deep breath, his brows furrowed, “I’m going to go paint. Feel free to help yourself to the fridge or put the TV on. We can head over to HQ in an hour.”

Tony nodded, getting up as well, as Steve began to walk into the other room, his shoulders tight. Tony clenched his fist, “Steve.”

Steve turned around, his eyes shuttered, and Tony’s chest hurt, “It’s—it’s not going to be forever.”

Steve watched him for a moment, his expression softening a bit as he gave a curt nod, “I know, Tony.” He turned and strode out of the kitchen, and Tony stood, watching his back turn the corner. 

The door slammed down the hall, and Tony collapsed back into his chair at the noise, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He put his head in his hands, scrubbing at his eyes and fruitlessly trying to keep the tears at bay—feeling like a stranger in the apartment he normally thought of as his second home.

* * *

The ride to the little diner that the Avengers called HQ was tense. Tony clutched Steve’s waist, but the normal banter and yelling that accompanied their rides on what Tony jokingly considered a death-trap was absent. Steve shoulders had barely lost any of the rigidity from earlier, and both their eyes were slightly red-rimmed.

By the time they parked at Angie’s, Tony had to restrain himself from bolting, and instead, awkwardly shifted as he watched Steve turn the bike off and began walking towards the entrance. 

Angie was waiting for them inside, her white hair pinned up in a bun, and her lips painted a bright red, as usual.

“Steve,” she smiled adoringly at him, before kissing his cheek, “Everyone is upstairs, feel free to head on up.”

Steve’s face softened and he hugged her quickly, “Thanks, Angie. How’s Peg?”

“She’s having the time of her life seeing Chief Fury running around and dealing with your messes.” Angie retorted, “I’ll come by with food in a bit, and don’t you protest. You were skinny enough as a child, we have to make sure you don’t wither away.”

Tony couldn’t help but snort, Steve was nowhere near “withering away”. Upon hearing the noise, Angie turned to him and put her hands on her hips.

“Tony Stark.” She looked at him, mock seriously, “What’s this I’ve been hearing about $100 tips and surprise student loan clearances?”

Tony stuffed his hands in his pockets with a smile. “Can’t say I know, Angie. Must be a generous donor.”

She shook her head teasingly and dropped a kiss on his cheek as well, “I’m sure.” She straightened up and ushered them through the restaurant and upstairs.

In the absence of Angie’s snark, the tension between Steve and Tony made a reappearance, and they hiked up the stairs in silence. They hadn’t spoken after Steve shut himself in his room. Tony had dragged himself from the kitchen table to a couch in the small living room, and had sat there until Steve finally walked out of his room, his fingers paint smudged and the keys to his motorcycle in hand. Their interaction to get out the door and on their way to HQ had ended up consisting of a few gruff words and wordless nodding or grunts of agreement.

Steve reached the landing before he did, and he began to walk down the short hall, before pushing open the door to the room the Avengers usually had their meetings in. Tony followed silently, hands still shoved in his pockets.

Everyone except for Thor had already congregated around the table they normally sat at, joking and also talking seriously. Natasha noticed them first, and raised an eyebrow in acknowledgment. Clint was next, throwing off a jaunty salute, while Bruce met Tony’s eyes and nudged the empty chair next to him towards the genius. Tony took the seat gratefully as Steve went around the other side, sitting near Bucky and Sam—who were currently bickering good-naturedly.

Once Steve sat down, Bucky stopped his arguing in favor of clapping Steve on the shoulder with a grin, “Hope you and Mrs. Captain appreciated me staying away from the apartment this afternoon,” he threw a salacious wink towards Tony, while Steve and Tony both froze. 

Tony watched as Steve grit his teeth, but he didn’t say anything, and neither did Tony, shifting uncomfortably instead. Bucky’s smile slid of his face as he realized that neither of them had a snarky comeback, and he looked between the two of them his expression quickly moving from confusion to seriousness.

He narrowed his eyes at Tony, but Tony simply tried to avoid his gaze, looking at the back wall instead. He realized with a start that the rest of the room had gone silent as well, focusing on him and Steve.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, his voice careful.

There was a silence, and Steve looked at Bucky, his jaw clenched, but the other man only looked at him pointedly. 

“It doesn't matter, where's Thor?” Steve replied shortly after he realized Bucky wouldn’t take the silence as an answer.

His attempt to shut Bucky down failed, however, as the man simply looked at him incredulously.

“Doesn't matter?” He asked, jabbing a thumb toward Tony, “Stark’s so pale you'd think he had just seen a puppy get murdered in front of him.”

Tony flinched, and Steve only became more tense. Bucky turned towards him, eyes questioning at the involuntary movement, “Stark?”

Raising a hand to the bridge of his nose, Tony glanced at Steve, who was burning holes into the table in front of him. Tony looked back at Barnes, who was staring at him expectantly. Everyone else seemed to be waiting for his answer as well, despite their attempts to look like they weren't (Clint was ‘inspecting’ his nails). He sighed.

“Me and Steve,” he paused, unsure of how to word the next part, “decided that we should take a break.”

Bucky gaped at him, glancing over at Steve for a second, “A break?” He asked, incredulous.

Steve simply grit his teeth and looked off to the side, and Tony felt like slumping in his seat, unsure of what to say. Bucky continued to stare at Tony, his face still disbelieving.

He was saved from having to formulate an answer by the door banging open and Thor barreling in.

“My friends, I have dire news,” he boomed before taking in the scene in front of him and frowning, “and it seems the situation is dire here as well. What has happened?”

“Nothing of matter,” Steve replied, gesturing for Thor to sit in the chair next to him, “What’s the news?”

Thor sat down next to him, looking around the room and obviously unimpressed with Steve’s lack of explanation, but he replied nonetheless, “Loki is in town.”

Clint tensed in his chair almost immediately, his fists clenched at his sides, “Where'd you see him?”

“He was lurking around Stark tower,” Thor turned to Tony, “Anthony, I’d advise you to be more cautious than normal, his presence near your abode is alarming.”

Tony looked at the grim expressions all around him, slightly confused, “Who the hell is Loki?”

Natasha answered him, her mouth pursed, “Thor’s half-brother. He’s an information dealer.”

“Fucking green-eyed snake,” Clint muttered. Bruce hummed in agreement.

Thor pulled out his phone and tapped away, after a moment he passed his phone towards Tony, “Here, a picture of him.”

Tony stared down at the smirking face in the photo with a sense of dread, “I've seen him.” 

Everyone stared at him for what seemed like the millionth time in the past hour. He elaborated, looking down at the knowing eyes, “The day of the kidnapping, I saw him on the street, looking like he knew more than he should.” Tony looked across the table at Steve, who was currently looking at him with wide eyes, “He distracted me, that's how the minions caught me off guard.”

Sam swore softly under his breath and Bruce tensed beside him. Clint stared up at the ceiling, rubbing his temples, his eyes squeezed shut.

Steve exhaled, “Alright, if you've seen him, then it might be time that we planted Natasha in SI.”

There was a hum of agreement around the table, and Tony nodded.

“I'll inform Pepper that I want someone to be hired tomorrow morning. We should be able to get Nat in by next week.”

Bruce cut in from next to him, “Wait, anothier thing. Tony, you were telling me about the two theories you had as to how HYDRA knew you were working with us?”

“Yeah, either Obie knows I'm contacting you as the Avengers, or he knows that ‘the Captain’ is Steve. I'm hoping it's the first option, but we need to figure which one it is, and fast.” Tony ran a hand through his hair and looked at Steve.

“Alright, then, Natasha, you'll be looking into that, in addition to gathering info about the back deals.” Steve stated. Tony had told him about the possibilities the day after the kidnapping, but Steve looked just as uneasy now about Obadiah possiily knowing his identity as he had three weeks ago. “We’ll need to find out what Loki is up to as well. Thor, I know he won't talk to you, but if you know some of his contacts, take advantage of that.”

Thor and Natasha both nodded in agreement, and that, was that.

There was a bit more discussion about contingency plans and the logistics of getting Natasha into SI. Angie came in with food somewhere in the middle of it, and by ten they were clearing out of the diner. Steve was one of the first to get on his motorcycle and drive away, taking advantage of the fact that Tony had already informed him that he'd call Happy for a ride before they'd even left for HQ. Bruce and Sam waved, walking towards the subway stations together, while Clint and Natasha got into a non-descript car and drove off as well.

Tony had called Happy already, and the man had informed him it would take fifteen minutes before he got there, so Tony stood outside the diner, accompanied by Bucky, who, despite his best attempts to look like he was doing otherwise, was obviously on high alert.

A few moments after everyone but the two of them left, Bucky turned to Tony, his brow furrowed.

“What the fuck happened to you and Steve?” He asked, his gaze teetering on the edge of a glare.

Tony sighed. He’d known the question would be coming, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. “We realized that we both need to work through some things that we’d been ignoring. Separately. That’s pretty much it.”

Bucky held Tony’s gaze for a moment more before dropping it with a nod, “That’s fair.” They were silent for the next few minutes, and soon Happy’s headlights were bouncing off the windows of the diner.

Tony made his way towards the car, but Bucky stopped him with an hand on his arm. Tony turned, questioning, but Bucky didn’t say anything right away, searching Tony’s expression instead. Finding what he was looking for, he nodded.

“Do you think you’ll get back together?” His voice was gentle as he dropped Tony’s arm, his eyes darting behind Tony’s shoulder where Happy was probably watching intently. Tony gazed back, hoping that his eyes weren’t being as expressive as he felt like they were being.

“I hope so.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I've kind of been dead on my [Tumblr](www.faillen.tumblr.com) for the past month or so, but I still get notifications, so feel free to chat with me :)


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